


haunt me through my screen

by nomisupernova



Series: DaveKat Music Fics 2019 [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anyway this fic is accidentally really real but it's good, Depression, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kanaya Maryam/Karkat Vantas Moirallegiance, Karkat Is A Ghost, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Dave Strider, Paranormal, Sorta? it's humanstuck so as close as that gets, Sources - just trust me bro, Trans Dave Strider, Trans Karkat Vantas, Warnings May Change, love after death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-01-12 06:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18441407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomisupernova/pseuds/nomisupernova
Summary: It started with something simple: Just a message, written in something you’d wager a guess at a mix of blood and ectoplasm, on the mirror in your tiny apartment bathroom.I’LL REMOVE YOUR KNEECAPS IF YOU DON’T FUCKING QUIET DOWN AT NIGHT. SOME OF US WITHOUT BODIES ARE ACTUALLY TRYING TO FUCKING *SLEEP*!





	1. where'd all the time go?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeebuoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeebuoy/gifts).



> This fic takes its title from _Haunt Me_ by Samsa which you can listen to [here.](https://open.spotify.com/track/2qwGNZ1cLhF5i1r73jXjiO?si=QUZqEJJrR1izrY8_vjSlTA)
> 
> All of the Rose dialog was cleaned up and re-written by my new, dedicated editor; [coffeebuoy.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeebuoy/profile)

It started with something simple: Just a message, written in something you’d wager a guess at a mix of blood and ectoplasm, on the mirror in your tiny apartment bathroom.

I’LL REMOVE YOUR KNEECAPS IF YOU DON’T FUCKING QUIET DOWN AT NIGHT. SOME OF US WITHOUT BODIES ARE ACTUALLY TRYING TO FUCKING *SLEEP*!

You were spooked, if you’re gonna be honest (and you are, since this is just you and your thoughts). You gasped and smacked your head on the bathroom door when you jerked back after you saw it.

“Rose, you flighty broad, is this some kind of fucking prank…?” you whisper under your breath, voice sounding as shaken as you feel. 

No response, obviously, considering Rose isn’t fucking here. But regardless, it can’t be her doing. She hasn’t been in your apartment for well over a month, which was the last time she stopped by before you gently asked her to stop checking in on you so much. By which you mean, you got into a quiet screaming match with her and told her to shove her “oh so holy” attitude of passive-aggressive care right up her fucking ass.

You erase the message later, not thinking too much of it, but you do catch yourself being a little quieter that night… just in case. In case this turns out to be more than just a prank. You’re not crazy, you swear, you just… don’t want to upset anything, or any _ one _ for that matter.

The next morning comes, as morning tends to do. You’re brushing your teeth, thinking about how weird that writing was yesterday when you see it happening in front of your fucking eyes. It’s almost like it’s dripping from the inside of the mirror. It’s fucking disgusting, really. It quickly scrawls across the surface, like some very furious and angry spirit is impulsively screaming at you from the great beyond.

THANK YOU FOR KEEPING IT DOWN, I APPRECIATE IT WHEN YOU PATHETIC MORTALS ACTUALLY FUCKING LISTEN TO PEOPLE LIKE ME FOR ONCE. NOW IF ONLY YOU’D, OH I DON’T KNOW, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT?? THAT WOULD BE GREAT! BUT I SEE I WON’T HAVE THAT FUCKING PLEASURE.

Whatever it is even doodles a very angry looking face in the top corner, seeing as it’s the only bit of mirror left without massive letters scribbled into it. You laugh a bit at that, how small they drew the face so it would fit. You decide to communicate back by using your toothpaste to draw a dick on the mirror.

They don’t like that  _ at all _ . 

YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF SHIT! YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU’RE NOT WORTH THE FUCKING BILE THAT THE NURSES UNFORTUNATELY FIND ALMOST FUCKING *CONSISTENTLY* OUTSIDE IN THE FUCKING PARKING LOT OF THE HOSPITAL. YOU KNOW, FROM WHEN WORTHLESS ALCOHOLICS ARE MAKING THEIR FIFTH TRIP THIS WEEK TO GET THEIR STOMACH PUMPED. 1/2

...One out of two? You decide to wait for the next part. You snap a picture of it so you won’t forget.

(THANK YOU FOR WAITING) AND DID I NEGLECT TO MENTION THAT IT’S ONLY TUESDAY IN THIS SCENARIO? IT’S TUESDAY YOU FESTERING MEATBAG, YOU’RE NOT EVEN WORTH TUESDAY’S VOMIT PILE, THAT’S HOW FUCKING UNAPPETIZING, STOMACH-CHURNING, AND ODIOUS YOU ARE! 2/2

You burst into uproarious laughter, holy  _ shit _ you  _ love _ this guy. You assume it’s a guy, anyway. But who are you to judge a spectral ghost thing on it’s gender? You’ll love them either way.

You decide to answer again, “are you single? B)”

Your bathroom is positively  _ covered _ in a thick red goo on every reflective surface, he even managed to smear “GO FUCK YOURSELF!!!!” on the shower doors in large, dark letters. You laugh so hard that you’re in tears, even while cleaning it up, you’re still chuckling softly. But you can’t help but wonder if he can hear you… somehow. You’re not exactly sure how this whole “ghost” thing works, it seems more like it’s something up Rose’s alley.

_ Right, _ you wanted to ask Rose about all of...  _ this. _ Phone in hand, you begrudgingly message her.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 11:22 --

TG: hey rose you up  
TT: Well yes, obviously I am. Dave, it’s nearly noon. What kind of person do you take me for to still be in bed this late?  
TG: i dunno  
TG: i know i was  
TG: anyway i was gonna ask you a thing  
TT: ...Alright, I suppose. Let’s "shoot the shit" then. I’ll psychoanalyze your sleeping patterns at a later point.  
TG: ok so ghosts  
TG: or i guess poltergeists or whatever they call themselves these days  
TG: im not ghost racist im just uneducated cut me some slack  
TG: do you think they’re a real thing or what  
TT: Is there any particular reason you’re asking about this? It’s is a very niche thing to randomly come to mind, even for those with hobbies as borderline macabre as yours.  
TG: im just curious i guess  
TG: been watching a lot of ghost adventures and its got me thinkin  
TG: what if those fuckers aint just playin it up and they ARE real  
TG: and i cant sleep til you tell me otherwise  
TG: damn either im really rambling here and you fucked off or youre really taking your time with this  
TT: Hmm, there is not a particularly substantial amount of evidence proving or disproving the existence of otherworldly entities in our realm of consciousness. I, myself, am still on the fence over this matter. This science doesn’t seem to hold a lot of weight, from what I’ve researched.  
TT: By which I mean, I asked Kanaya and we had a small debate over it, which is why it took me so long to reply. I apologize.  
TG: lame  
TG: so you dont know then?  
TT: Unfortunately, I do not. I’d prefer to find things out for myself through personal experience. Are you sure this only came up because of a TV show?  
TG: yeah  
TT: …  
TT: Okay, I believe you for now.  
TT: Was there anything else you needed before I ask about the thing you clearly don’t want me to ask about? You know you can’t dodge my questions forever.  
TG: nope im gonna head out anyway  
TG: i got a lot to do  
TG: you know how it is  
TT: Dave.  
TG: later

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 11:56 --

Well, that was no help. It’s fine, you suppose. At least you know that you’re  _ maybe possibly _ not going crazy and this haunting is actually real.  _ Maybe. _

You decide to write a little letter instead of writing on the mirror, mostly because you're tired of wasting all of your damn toothpaste on the mirror like that. After you'd already taped it up, it occurs to you that you could just  _ buy _ a dry-erase marker. After rolling your eyes at yourself for wasting what you have left of that good stationary Rose bought you, you use your trusted Amazon Prime subscription to get dry erase markers sent to you.

You sit back into your bed after washing your hair; you're "busy" today, a phrase which, when applied here, means you're gonna sit at home and blog all day.  Maybe if you're feeling spicy, you'll take a nap. Your inbox on Tumblr has a few notifications - some asks about when you're gonna make music again, people begging for a new album, and one long-winded four-part anonymous message. You actually do bother reading this one.

"Hi there stridope, I've been following you for a few years now on all of your blogs. I've noticed that you're posting less and less content on your music blog and more on your personal/vent blog. If you're depressed, I get that. But you don't have to be alone, you know. You should really look into getting a good support system. Not that I assume you don't, since you talk about your sister a lot too, but do you ever think about getting some hobbies outside of music? 1/4"

“You haven't posted many selfies lately of you outside, so I'm concerned that you're not getting out enough. The sunlight is good for depression, not in any physical way, but it's just mentally nice to have. Maybe you'll feel like working again if you even do something as small as walk to a new coffee shop. I apologize if this seems nosy or if I'm acting like I know you when I don't. 2/4” 

“I realize that this might seem like a lot to read, and since I had to move the draft for this into notepad, I assume it is, but I just really care about you. I don't want anything bad to happen to someone I've grown slightly attached to. Not in an obsessive stalker way, but more like... I feel that I'm a concerned family member at this point. 3/4"

“If this is too presumptuous, feel free to ignore me and delete these messages. You don't even have to post these to your blog, but give me an indicator that you read it and we can talk, if you like. Just post something asking the Care Anon to message you and I will. I care about you. Stay safe. 4/4"

Well... as nice as that sounds, you think you'd rather ruminate on it a little more. Instead of deleting them like you would typically do, you leave them there to sit. You’ll decide what to do when you’re not focused on something else. For now, you’ll scroll through as many posts as you can find about people contacting ghosts and spirits and take advice from there.

You fall asleep with your phone in your hand not long after, then wake up to a response to your letter scribbled on the mirror in letters much smaller than before. It looks like they’re learning to squeeze text into the small area.

PAPER IS HARD TO READ, BUT I DID MY BEST. YOU’RE VERY CUTE BUT I DON’T KNOW YOU THAT WELL. ALSO, YES, I CAN HEAR YOU BUT ONLY WHEN YOU’RE IN THE BATHROOM. CONSIDER GETTING A BIGGER MIRROR OR SOMETHING BECAUSE I HATE WRITING THIS SMALL. HAVE YOU HEARD OF A OUIJA BOARD?? MAYBE IF YOU KNOW A WITCH OR SOMETHING, WE CAN USE THEM TO TALK. IT’S HARD TO TALK TO YOU FACE-TO-FACE IF IT’S JUST YOU AND ME SO WE’LL HAVE TO INVOLVE ANOTHER PERSON. SORRY.

 

* * *

 

Your markers arrive the next morning, you tear into the package, cutting your thumb open as you do. Shoving the wound in your mouth - you know, exactly what you were always told  _ not _ to do - you begin writing on the mirror. 

i cant buy a new mirror unless i go out and i dont really have the energy for it right now

WHY NOT? ARE YOU OKAY? ALSO GET YOUR FINGER OUT OF YOUR MOUTH, IT'S NOT GOOD FOR CUTS, I SHOULD KNOW. WASH IT UNDER COLD WATER TO STOP THE BLEEDING. YOUR MOUTH CARRIES BACTERIA AND YOU SHOULDN'T BE GETTING YOURSELF SICK FOR NO REASON.

You pull your thumb out of your mouth and do as he says. Miraculously, the bleeding does stop almost instantly. You wonder if he's human, or you guess  _ was _ human. You suppose you've been thinking of him as a demon this whole time when really, he could just be a dead guy. You uncap the marker again and start writing. 

its fine i just

You hesitate. Why are you  _ nervous? _ There's nothing wrong with you...  _ maybe. _ Not that you feel like talking about, at least. Rose, Kanaya, and your slew of doctors all agree that you have depression, but you don't  _ feel _ sad. You just... feel like everything in life has lost its flavour. Like the world is made of unsalted, unbuttered, and unseasoned mashed potatoes. And not even the good kind, it's more along the lines of "flakes that you mix with water and warm it up." You think about erasing the message but what good would that do if he's already seen it? Which you assume he can since he replied so quickly. 

You look up and see another message on the mirror.

IT'S OKAY TO BE SAD.

You frown, furrowing your brow in frustration.

im not sad

YOU SEEM SAD.

im not sad! why the fuck does everyone always say that

YOU LOOK LIKE SOMEONE SUCKED ALL OF THE COLOUR OUT OF YOUR LIFE. TRUST ME, I GET WHAT IT'S LIKE TO FEEL LIKE THAT ON A PERSONAL LEVEL.

As you wipe the mirror down to reply, another message quickly appears.

WHATEVER YOU'RE ABOUT TO WRITE? DON'T.

why? cuz you know im gonna ask why you know what its like to be sad?

You wait, and wait. And wait. Nothing. You think you upset him and that thought makes you feel shameful and like you wronged him. You  _ really _ shouldn't be feeling so attached to a ghost, but it's the first thing in  _ years  _ that feels good so you're gonna fucking latch onto it and see where it takes you.

why do you know

I'M DEAD, ASSHOLE, WHAT DOES IT MATTER?

whats your name?

ONLY IF YOU TELL ME YOURS.

dave

DAVE? THAT’S PRETTY NON-DESCRIPTIVE. HOW DO I KNOW YOU’RE NOT JUST SAYING THAT SO I’LL TELL YOU MINE?

dave strider

yes its my real ass name

HAHAHAHA, IF I DIDN’T KNOW ANY BETTER, I’D SAY YOU PICKED THAT OUT FOR YOUR FUCKING SELF.

i did

OH. WELL. SO DID I.

are you gonna tell me what it is?

NOT YET. I WON’T TELL YOU THE NAME I HAD WHEN I WAS ALIVE, AT LEAST. BUT IT’S NICE TO FORMALLY MEET YOU, DAVE.

ok so im just supposed to talk to someone with no name? do you at least have a nickname i can call you?

...YES. KARKAT. CALL ME KARKAT.

karkat? thats a really weird name

SHUT THE FUCK UP. IT’S A NAME I WANTED TO GO BY WHEN I WAS ALIVE.

now that sounds like something you picked out for yourself more than dave does tbh

UGH YOU’RE ONE OF *THOSE* PEOPLE WHO UNIRONICALLY SAYS "TBH" AND SHIT LIKE THAT. WHATEVER. I CAN HEAR YOU LAUGHING. KARKAT MEANS CRAB AND I’M A CANCER SO IT JUST FUCKING WORKS OUT FOR ME.

so how did you die

NEXT QUESTION, YOU DON’T KNOW ME WELL ENOUGH FOR THAT.

isnt there any easier way to talk to you?

I DID MENTION THE WITCH THING. BUT I DON’T KNOW, I MIGHT BE WRONG. I WAS… FRIENDS WITH ONE WHEN I WAS ALIVE, I GUESS. BUT I DON’T THINK SHE BROUGHT UP ANY WAY TO COMMUNE WITH THE DEAD EVER.

well its not that i dont like talking to you like this its just that im kinda hungry and we kinda been at this for a few hours now so if i could go make\-- Writing scrawls right under where you were writing, he’s _interrupting you._

GO FUCKING EAT, ASSWIPE! I’LL BE JUST FINE. TIME IS SKEWED IN THE AFTERLIFE, IN A WAY. SO WHAT FEELS LIKE A WEEK TO ME IS PROBABLY A MONTH TO YOU. IT MAKES IT HARD TO TELL HOW LONG I’VE BEEN DEAD.

im gonna order something on my phone but take your time answering this question i guess. did you die here?

You open up your iPhone, eyeing your old Pesterchum app and ponder on messaging Rose for a moment. You, her, Kanaya, and your close group of friends all use it still. It’s very outdated at this point but nostalgia is a powerful drug. Either way, you decide against it for now. Maybe you will tomorrow when you feel a little braver. You decide to use Grubhub and order yourself some McDonalds, same as always. Burger, fries, big cup of sweet tea. After you pay with the money you make on Spotify streams of your music, you tuck your phone away and look back up at the mirror, twirling your marker in your fingers.

YES.

has it been a while?

I DON’T KNOW WHAT YEAR IT IS FOR YOU, BESIDES, I’M NOT… SURE IF I’M READY TO TALK ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW.

no big deal man. its 2019 btw. how old were you when you beefed it?

JESUS. IT’S… I WAS… IT’S FOGGY BUT I THINK I WAS 23.

its foggy for you?

YOU LET GO OF THINGS AFTER A WHILE, AGE STOPS FEELING IMPORTANT WHEN YOU’RE ALWAYS THE SAME AND YOU NEVER CHANGE. THE ONLY THING THAT "CHANGED" FOR ME WAS THAT I BECAME WHAT I WANTED TO BE, IN A WAY. I GOT MY IDEAL BODY BECAUSE IT’S WHAT MY SOUL WAS SHAPED LIKE.

i guess that makes sense, makes me kinda excited to die lmao

There’s a long pause, longer than normal, and you silently kick the absolute shit out of yourself. 

not that i want to but

I KNOW WHAT YOU MEANT, BUT TRUST ME, YOU… SHOULD KEEP LIVING. THINGS WILL GET BETTER. AT LEAST THAT'S WHAT EVERYONE ALWAYS SAYS.

did it get better for you?

YES AND NO.

?

THEY MIGHT HAVE BUT WHEN YOU’VE BEEN ABANDONED BY EVERYONE YOU LOVE ASIDE FROM TWO PEOPLE, GIVE OR TAKE, FOR FIVE YEARS… IT’S HARD TO SEE A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL.

did you…

I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. PLEASE.

ok why dont you tell me about yourself then?

WELL I WAS… AM… ABOUT 5’3? FAIRLY AVERAGE, I GUESS. MAYBE. AVERAGE FOR A MEXICAN PERSON I GUESS.

short

WELL WE CAN’T ALL BE BORN AS BIG TALL MUSCULAR MALES, DAVE.

right yeah i didnt forget im just

IT’S FINE, YOU’RE JUST PLAYING AROUND, I GET IT. MAYBE IT’S BETTER THAT WE’RE TALKING LIKE THIS, SLOWLY. I WAS KIND OF OBNOXIOUS IN PERSON, I DIDN’T THINK BEFORE I SPOKE. I JUST AGGRESSIVELY WORD-VOMITED EVERY THOUGHT THAT CAME TO MIND.

no shame in that, karkat

it just means you always spoke your mind

WELL IT DIDN’T ALWAYS WORK OUT IN MY FAVOR. AND ANYWAY, YOU WERE ASKING HOW I LOOKED, I WASN’T DONE DESCRIBING MYSELF.

go on im gonna go get the door i think my food is here

You slide open Pesterchum and shoot Rose a message while you busy yourself with procuring said food.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 17:29 --

TG: hey can i ask you a thing  
TT: I suppose.  
TG: woah quick reply  
TT: Yes, I’m just sitting around right now, looking at new crystals for Kanaya on this website. Her birthday is coming up and I think she’d like this agate here. It’s green and quite large.  
TG: ok good then youre already on the subject i wanna talk about  
TG: how does one contact the dead  
TT: …  
TT: These questions about ghosts, poltergeists, and the dead are getting more and more specific each time we talk. Dave, if you are, by chance, talking to a ghost, I recommend using caution.  
TT: Also… are you considering using a Ouija board?  
TG: uhhhh  
TG: maybe  
TG: what about it  
TT: *Don’t.*  
TG: ok  
TT: If this ghost of yours can verify that they are indeed a once-living person and not some kind of demon or evil spirit, then honestly, why don’t you just let them use your phone as some kind of conduit? You’re always on the damn thing.  
TG: oh fuck i didnt even think of that  
TT: Mhm, you don’t think and I do.  
TG: first off fuck you  
TG: second off ive been knew  
TG: third off thanks for the idea  
TG: ill uh  
TG: let my friend know what you said  
TT: I’ve definitely already sussed out that it’s you doing the communications with the ghost but sure, Dave, keep relaying my information to your "friend."  
TT: Please take care of yourself. Take a vitamin with the McDonalds you just ordered.  
TG: how did you know about that  
TT: Kanaya is the one driving it there. Say hello for me.  
TT: She started doing part-time as a Grubhub driver.  
TT: Message me again soon.  
TG: later then

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 17:41 --


	2. ready, able

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes its title from the song _Ready, Able_ by **Grizzly Bear** which you can listen to [here.](https://open.spotify.com/track/5cf1ZfI16kHp3S1ySpQ36G?si=u1T3QBhRSwel9zDIrxpk7w)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big big thank you to my editor, [coffeebuoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeebuoy), for helping me jam out the ideas for this fic and polish off the outline (and of course, for the editing.)  
> Another thank you to my friend [Java_bean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Java_bean) for helping me go over the Kanaya/Dave interactions and giving me good ideas. :)
> 
> I couldn't have kept writing this without you two!

You turn and grab your jacket off the hook before heading out (It’s a weird time of year, and it’s not exactly like you spend a lot of time checking the weather). You might as well prepare in case it's raining out randomly, you know, as the weather does. You could check your phone but  _ god that’s so hard and you just really don’t feel like it. _ Plus, you’re pretty sure you’ve been wearing the same shirt for like a week now. Gross. You’ll have to toss this one in the washer with the rest of the dirty clothes scattered across the floor around your apartment. You make a half-hearted promise to remember to do just that as you zip your hoodie up. You hope nobody notices the raw stank of your week-old unwashed shirt. Oh well, Kanaya probably won’t judge you for being nasty. 

When you open the door, you can see her leaned against her sleek black sports car, texting away on her phone. You think it’s safe to assume she’s talking to Rose and clear your throat as you close the apartment door behind you. She jumps a bit in surprise and you hold in a chuckle, she really should’ve been expecting you since she’s getting paid for this. Eh, what the hell, she’s practically almost your sister-in-law so you might as well toss her a big tip for taking the time out of her day for you. It’s what cool brothers do and you’re a cool brother, as long as you don’t count the screaming match between yourself and your sister toward your good sibling points.

“Goodness gracious, hello asshole. I didn’t hear you approach,” she laughs off the still vaguely terrified shake of her voice and dusts the back of her floor-length skirt off. She lifts a plastic bag and shakes it temptingly, “I have your lunch.”

You let yourself laugh this time since she’s being silly, “Yeah, I sure hope you do, dude.” She smiles, tight-lipped and tense. You wonder what’s up with her today. You reach forward and snag the bag. Instead of leaving right away, she sits back against the car, apparently not quite finished pestering you for the day.

“So how’s Rose doing? She all good?” you ask, if only to break the silence. People always seem to be hot and ready like a fresh hot pocket for chatting when you bring up the people they’re dating. Or so you’ve noticed, not that you know dick squat about that since your ass is still as single as the last pringle in the bottom of the can.

“She’s fine, I guess. She’s honestly still pretty pissed at you, not that I can say I blame her since you were being quite the ass.” She pauses to look up at you, “Apologies. That was really rude of me to say.”

“Nah, you’re right, I was being a major dick to her. I shouldn’t shut her out like that cuz she like, cares and shit. She’s just…”

“She has a funny way of showing it sometimes, I’m aware. Rose was being way more of a dick than you were, honestly.” She snickers, covering her jet-black lips with her hand, she’s so weirdly put together that it’s hard to imagine her even swearing. But here she is, doing exactly that. Fuckin’ flighty broads out here surprising you and shit, it’s super duper hella uncool. But her smile deflates again and she sighs, looking off into the distance.

“So, how’s things?” you pester her, retrieving a chicken nugget out of the bag and munching happily at it. You figure you might as well take a moment to catch up since she’s looking so forlorn. “Want one? You look pretty hungry.”

“Why yes, I will take one. Thank you, this will surely cure my McHunger,” Kanaya sticks her hand out and you drop a piping hot piece of processed and fried chicken into her palm. She shoves it into her mouth in one movement and then turns to look at you after she’s done. “You’re not going to pay me less because I’m eating your meal with you, are you?”

You laugh, “Hell to the nah. Gettin’ food from you is like gettin’ weed from a dealer when he’s your BFF, your compadre, your homie, your amigo… y'know?”

“No.”

Kanaya stares at you for another moment or two and you shrug. “Whatever man. It means you share and you don’t pay the dude less for splittin’ it with ya. Just as long as he don’t make no weird eyes at your girl.”

She raises a well-painted eyebrow, “You don’t have a girl… unless you do. In which case, spill.”

You raise a hand defensively, “No, no no no. Of course not. I don’t really talk to girls, much less am I looking to date any.” She opens her mouth to say more but you continue, “A-and no boys either.”

“Oh I’m so sure, you definitely don’t have the tone of someone who has been talking to any cute boys or anything.” She chuckles at you, pulling at the corner of her scarf nervously. She sighs again, “It must be nice to feel full, you look fuller than usual.”

“Fuller?”

“Yes, you look like someone who is learning how to feel again. Like the Dave you were when I met your sister. I’m very glad to see you improving somewhat. Whatever you’re doing, I’m glad it’s making you happy.” She smiles tight-lipped at you. You can tell something is off and you kind of want to know what it is.

“You uh, you okay?” You reach up and scratch the side of your face. Be casual, Dave. You got this. You can have  _ one _ feelings jam and not be fuckin’ weird about it. “You seem… a little off. Not that you’re usually off, I just… uh, I worry about you.”

She smiles gently at you, eyes alight with sincerity, “Well, thank you for asking. If I’m being truthful with you, it’s actually quite hard to be here, so you’ll have to pardon my less than cerebral demeanor at the moment.”

“Oh?” You kick yourself in the leg internally, you sound like a real jackass right now. You cough and try again, “Why what’s up?”

Kanaya looks hesitant but she takes a deep breath, like whatever she’s about to say is hard on her. You feel yourself actually hoping she’ll be okay, wow, that’s a new one. You haven’t felt  _ hope _ in a while. “Well… Dave, a friend of mine lives here. Er… used to live here, before he moved on, of course.”

You raise your eyebrows in curiosity, “Moved on from here? Like moved out of the building or moved out of the being alive club cuz it could really go either way.”  _ Why are you such a fucking horses ass? _ “Sorry, that’s… uh. That’s a really shitty way to put that, I’m sorry.”

She grimaces, obviously feeling some kind of second-hand embarrassment from your fucking shenanigans. This is what you get for not talking to anyone for months at a time, you forget how to communicate and be nice like a normal fucking person. “Ah. Perhaps it would be wise if you eat your dinner before it gets to an unsatisfactory temperature. I refuse to be held responsible for any thermal fluctuation that occurs after handing it over to you.”

“So, is this like, your idea of a distraction technique? Cuz I gotta say, Maryam, that shit don’t work on me. As you know, I am like, the  _ prince _ of distactions.” You desperately scrape the bottom of the barrel to save your ass out of the fucking molten pool of dumbass energy you keep eminating.  _ Rose is going to be so fucking mad if Kanaya is a mess when she gets home and she’ll only have you to blame for it. _ “But have you considered the following…” You pause briefly and she stares at you, making a humming noise at the back of her throat. “Not doing that?” You add gingerly.

She laughs darkly, “I understand your perspective, Dave, but have you considered the following -- perhaps, just this once, allowing me to continue doing just that?”

You frown, “Fine, fine fine. You win this time, Maryam. Except I’m not Snoop so I can’t just drop this shit like it’s hot. I’m dropping this shit like it’s the warmest and softest blanket straight outta the fuckin’ dryer. Which is to say, not at all in any capacity because I’m not a fucking monster and that warmth and me got some time we need to be spending together. Except for right now, I guess, due to external circumstances.” You shake your food bag and hold up your drink in emphasis. 

Kanaya smiles, “Well okay then, good night to you, Dave.”

You pout like a toddler who got told they can’t have cookies before dinner. “Kan, you don’t gotta go. Talk to me. Why don’t you tell doctor Dave what’s up? But like… only if you want to, no pressure whatsoever.”

She sighs, deep and tired, like someone who has lived a million lifetimes. Like the dude in Groundhog Day after he keeps hearing the same fucking bullshit over and over for years and years on end. “I’m sorry Dave but I have other orders to deliver to people before the sun goes down. Also, I’m just not really all that willing to continue this conversation right now. Nor any time in the future, if you would be so kind as to--”

“Why not, though?”

“Because walking into the bathroom of a dear friend’s apartment only to find him cold and dead in a pool of his own blood is a difficult situation to handle despite any length of time that passes after the events of it!” She sucks in a breath sharply between her teeth, you can hear how watery her voice is as she counts softly to herself and continues taking deep breaths.

You feel like the absolute scum of the earth but you must just really fucking love the taste of your toes since you keep putting your fucking foot in your mouth. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear about that. God. Fuck, are you okay?”

You stare at her blankly for a moment. “No. I am, in fact, very much not okay but thank you for inquiring,” Kanaya replies tersely. She stands up straighter, nodding her head to you, “Now, if you don’t mind, I will proceed to make a swift escape to my car. Which I will enter and use to drive to my next location covered in pitiful remorse and tears. Thank you and good night.” She turns as swiftly as she promised as swings open the door to her car violently before sitting on the seat as delicately as a flower. 

You should probably say something before she leaves lest you be flayed alive by your sibling. “Well. Drive safe at the very least, please. I’m… I’m really sorry, Kanaya. Like genuinely, actually, seriously really fucking sorry.”

She pauses and looks up at you for a moment, you’re not blind, you notice the way her eyeliner is running down her cheek in soft grey streaks. “Thank you for the apology. I… hope you enjoy your food and sleep well tonight.” You listen to the sound of her sniffling as she closes the door to her car, rolls the window down slightly and starts up the engine. You stand there stupidly, as you always do, and watch her drive away while wiping at the tears on her face.

Good fucking job, Dave, you fucking asswipe. But… what was that she said again?  _ “Walking into the bathroom of a dear friend’s apartment only to find him cold and dead in a pool of his own blood”? _ Your stomach drops as you think of your friend. Your ghost boy-friend, if you could dare to call him that.  _ Nah, sounds fake. _ Unless he is, but… how will you bring this up, even? He’ll just deny it, won’t he? Shit, you know you would if you were a ghost.

You realize you’re still standing there like a fucking idiot at the side of the road and flush in embarrassment. It’s best if you go inside and don’t look like some jackass loitering around these apartment buildings for whatever reason. That shit looks real shifty and you ain’t about that life whatsoever. You turn around and open the door, heading up the stairs with your mind flooding with questions for your new-found “friend” or whoever the hell he really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be much more substantial, I hope! I want to give you a time frame of when it will be done, but I'm moving again in a month and a half so it may take a while! You can keep up with me over on my [Tumblr](https://nomisupernova.tumblr.com/).

**Author's Note:**

> [Join Karkat Thirst, where I live-write my fics! 16 and up!](https://discord.gg/HVrHdPB)


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